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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/30095256">Vulnerable</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/songtoyou/pseuds/songtoyou'>songtoyou</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Knives Out (2019)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>BDSM, BDSM Scene, Bondage, F/M, Past Drug Use, Smut</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-04-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 22:13:41</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>9,790</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/30095256</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/songtoyou/pseuds/songtoyou</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Huge “Ransom” Drysdale always thought of himself as a powerful man. With his family’s money and status, Ransom could get away with anything. He had the power and control others would envy. Ransom could get any woman he wanted with a snap of his fingers. He was always in charge. He commanded attention. And he hated it. Never having a job in his life (thanks to his mother, father, and grandfather always there to supplement his bank account) or any real-life goals, Ransom felt incomplete and directionless. That is until Fabiola Rossi entered his life and turned it completely upside down.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Ransom Drysdale/Original Female Character(s)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>15</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Prologue</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This story will mostly be rated 18+ as it revolves around a relationship that is Dominant/submissive. </p><p>I have not seen Knives Out. This is an AU of that world. I do not own any of the characters created by Rion Johnson. I have always thought of Ransom as a sub rather than a Dominant, and this idea has been on my mind constantly that I needed to write it down. Anything in italics is to represent Ransom’s thoughts.  I do not permit any of my fics to be distributed on other sites without my permission. </p><p>Warnings: None for the prologue.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <hr/><p>What is a dominant-submissive (Dom/sub or D/s) relationship? While a Dom/sub relationship is about power, with one partner dominating the other either physically and/or psychologically, it is also about respect and trust. The dynamic power involved with a Dom/sub bond can entice those seeking to live out their fantasies or elevate a relationship to a whole other level. </p><p>Huge “Ransom” Drysdale always thought of himself as a powerful man. With his family’s money and status, Ransom could get away with anything. He had the power and control others would envy. Ransom could get any woman he wanted with a snap of his fingers. He was always in charge. He commanded attention. And he hated it. </p><p>Never having a job in his life (thanks to his mother, father, and grandfather always there to supplement his bank account) or any real-life goals, Ransom felt incomplete and directionless. That is until Fabiola Rossi entered his life and turned it completely upside down. </p><p>While attending a party to celebrate the release of Harlan’s latest crime novel, Ransom did his best not to draw attention to himself. He hated his family with a passion. They were truly awful people. Every one of them constantly sucked up to Harlan to maintain in his good graces. It was all to assure they stayed in Harlan’s will. Money. That is what the Thrombey/Drysdale clan cared about. His relatives would stab each other in the back if it meant getting what they felt they were “owed” from Harlan. </p><p>In all honesty, Ransom would not be surprised if Harlan left them all with nothing in the end. <em>‘It’s what we deserve,’</em> Ransom thought to himself.</p><p>Whenever Ransom had to attend one of these events for his grandfather, he decided to be on his best behavior. Ransom was not one to try to make a fool of himself. He had a reputation to protect. </p><p>“Ransom,” said a shrill voice next to him.</p><p>Ransom rolled his eyes as he turned towards the voice, which belonged to his mother, Linda.</p><p>“Come on. We need to get a family picture with your grandfather for the papers,” Linda mentioned as she grabbed Ransom’s arm and proceeded to drag him over to his family.</p><p>Groaning and moaning in annoyance, Ransom allowed his mother to manhandle him. The relationship with his mother was sorely lacking in love and affection. Throughout his life, Linda was always too busy creating her empire to spend quality time with her only child. Linda was determined to make a name for herself and gain her father’s approval that she ended up neglecting Ransom and his need for a mother’s love.</p><p>Ransom was placed directly behind Harlan, who was already sitting down, and his mother right next to him. It was where Ransom was always placed in family photos as he got older. He never understood why. It was such a renowned and essential placement to be in as it made Ransom look more prominent within his family. Surely, the other members of his family resented the placement since none felt Ransom earned the spot.</p><p>According to his uncles, aunts, and cousins, Ransom was a loser. A low-life spoiled playboy who has nothing going on in his world or any accomplishments to account for. </p><p><em>‘Fuck ‘em,’</em> Ransom told himself as he sneered at his family members. </p><p>With the picture taken, Ransom made a move to leave until Harlan reached for his arm and said, “Ransom, please stay for a moment. I want to introduce you to someone very important to me.”</p><p>Harlan lead Ransom towards an older man with a much younger woman on his arm. </p><p>“Ransom, this is my good friend Charles Van Houten. Charles was my first editor. I would not be where I am today if it were not for this man,” expressed Harlan enthusiastically.</p><p>Ransom watched as the two older gentlemen embraced one another in a hug. Ransom's odd sight to see as he never saw his grandfather act overly affectionate with anyone. <em>‘Except his nursemaid.’ </em></p><p>“And who is this lovely exquisite creature, Charles?” asked Harlan regarding the young woman. </p><p>“This is Fabiola Rossi. She is an inspiring editor herself. I have taken her under my wing as a mentor,” replied Charles as he wrapped an arm around Fabiola, who just smiled.</p><p><em>‘Bullshit! He’s nailing her!’</em> Ransom screamed in his head. </p><p>Turning towards the arm candy, Ransom took in Fabiola’s appearance. She was gorgeous, that was for sure. With long black hair, a small figure, and short stature, Fabiola did not appear intimidating but rather soft and gentle in her appearance.</p><p>“You are in good hands, my dear,” voiced Harlan happily. </p><p>“That is what people tell me,” Fabiola spoke up cheerfully. </p><p>“Ransom, great seeing you again,” said Charles, finally acknowledge the younger man of the group and shaking his hand, “You still writing those short stories? Your grandfather would rave about your writing to me all the time.”</p><p>Ransom was stunned. He never shared his stories with anyone other than Harlan. Hearing that his grandfather praised his work and actually told someone else about them was shocking. </p><p>Regaining his composure, Ransom responded, “Not of late, no. I…have other interests at the moment.”</p><p>“I tell him all the time that he had the talent to be a really great writer,” expressed Harlan and added, “I do hope you get back to writing again, Ransom. It would be such a waste of your talent if you gave it up completely.”</p><p>“You know what…I need a drink. I’ll be back,” Ransom excused himself and headed towards the bar.</p><p>“I’m gonna get a refill. You want one?” asked Fabiola to Charles.</p><p>“Nah, darling. I’m good,” replied Charles flirtatiously and gave an extra squeeze to Fabiola’s backside.</p><p>Turning away, Fabiola rolled her eyes at the older gentlemen she was accompanying and made a beeline for Ransom. He was an interesting character, and he mildly intrigued her. Fabiola could tell that Ransom was putting on a façade in front of all these people. </p><p><em>‘He is bored as Hell with his life. Nothing excites him anymore,’</em> thought Fabiola.   </p><p>Waving over the bartender, Fabiola stood next to Ransom and ordered her drink, a Dirty Shirley.</p><p>“I can’t wait for this night to be over. How about you?” asked Fabiola.</p><p>“All of these events are the same. Same shitty food, same boring people, same watered-down drinks.”  </p><p>“Bored, Ransom?” Fabiola asked upfront. There was no point in beating around the bush.</p><p>Ransom smirked and enquired, “Why you wanna know?”</p><p>Taking a sip of her drink, Fabiola let out a little laugh. “Just trying to make polite conversation with someone I just met. That’s all. No hidden agenda here.” Slowly sipping her Dirty Shirley enticingly with a straw, Fabiola stared at Ransom seductively. </p><p>Now it was Ransom’s turn to laugh. “Everyone has an agenda, sweetheart. You are either too naïve or too stupid to realize that we live in a very fucked up world.”</p><p>“You got some mouth on you. Don’t you Ransom?” Fabiola vocalized as her gaze towards Ransom switched from seductive to hard. She stepped closer to him and whispered in his ear, “I bet a ball gag would fit nicely around those pretty lips of yours.” </p><p>Almost spitting out his drink, Ransom was shocked by what she said. He was completely caught off guard at her boldness. </p><p>Retrieving her drink, Fabiola bid Ransom goodbye and headed back over to Charles and Harlan as if nothing happened. </p><p>Ransom was intrigued by this woman. He was determined to meet Fabiola Rossie after this night. </p><p>
  <em>‘Game on, sweetheart.’</em>
</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. West Bridgewater</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Warnings: None for this chapter.</p><p>Anything in italics is to represent Ransom’s thoughts.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <hr/><p>What is a dominant-submissive relationship all about? As mentioned previously, there is an energy dynamic between the two partners. It is the Dominant’s duty to protect and guide his or her submissive. The submissive, also called “the bottom,” relinquishes some or all control to the Dominant. He or she is playing out their own kinds and fetishes through the guidance of a Dominant. No actions or scenes can be played out unless the submissive has consented to everything the Dominant plans to do during a play session. A D/s relationship is not solely about sexual activities but exploring new and interesting ways to connect beyond sex. For example, the Dominate can set up simple rules that the submissive must follow, such as asking permission to stay out late or have ice cream for dessert. A healthy D/s relationship can lead to a life of self-improvement. </p><p>
  <em>“You got some mouth on you…I bet a ball gag would fit nicely around those pretty lips of yours.”</em>
</p><p>For some reason, Ransom could not get that comment out of his head. It was so unexpected and out of leftfield. He never had a woman said anything so bold towards him. No stranger to bondage with the opposite sex, it was always Ransom who was the one in charge. Women were more than happy for him to lead the charge. It was the only time Ransom was ever put to work, so to speak. Fabiola Rossi had managed to not only mystify the spoiled playboy, but he was not determined to find out more about her. </p><p>So, Ransom did one any person in their mid-30s did when trying to find information about another person; he stalked her social media. He came up short. No Twitter, Facebook, or Instagram that he could find of her unless they were private.</p><p><em>“This is Fabiola Rossi. She is an inspiring editor herself. I have taken her under my wing as a mentor.” </em>Ransom remembered from the night before when creepy old Charlie Van Houten introduced his grandfather and him to Fabiola. </p><p>Of course, Fabiola had a LinkedIn page as she was a young working professional. Ransom saw that she graduated with a Bachelor of Arts in English and a minor in Psychology at Boston University. He noticed it had only been five years since she graduated from the university, so he suspected she was in her late twenties. Most of the jobs Fabiola received were internships or part-time positions. Not unusual for graduates looking to enter into the workforce. There was not much to offer due to the Baby Boomers not wanting to retire or companies being stingy with providing decent living wages or health benefits. </p><p>“Intern. Van Houten &amp; Thompson Publishing. March 2019 to current. Performs proofreading and editing of manuscripts and additional documents before the final publication,” Ransom read out loud as he continued to look through Fabiola’s profile.</p><p>He got up to reach for his coat to pull out his wallet. Inside was a business card of Charlie’s that he gave Ransom before leaving his grandfather’s party. Charlie told Ransom to keep in touch and that they both could talk about possibly working together. </p><p><em>“If you have been working on anything, send it over. In fact, send it over to Fabiola. She’d probably love to read it and give you feedback. Give him your email address, honey. Any work you send over to her will be in great hands,” </em>Ransom remembered Charlie saying to him last night. He looked overthe business card and traced his thumb over Fabiola’s handwriting of her email address. </p><p>He could not understand why this particular woman intrigued him so, despite only meeting her briefly the night before. However, Ransom knew he had an itch to scratch, and it was better to get it taken care of now before things got too out of hand. Before he became too obsessed.</p><p>Turning on his laptop, he waited for it to boot up. Opening his email account, Ransom began composing a new email to Fabiola. He kept it short and simple by asking if she was still looking over what he was currently working on. </p><p>
  <strong>Hi Ms. Rossi,</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>It was a pleasure meeting you last night. I hope you are doing well. If you are not too busy, do you mind if I send over the story I am currently working on? I do not want to impose if your schedule is too busy, but Charlie had such high praise for you, and I would appreciate the feedback and insight from you.</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>Talk to you soon,</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>Ransom </strong>
</p><p>He clicked the ‘send’ button and waited. Thankfully, he did not have to wait too long for a response back.</p><p>
  <strong>Hi Ransom,</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>I am so glad you reached out. Please call me Fabiola. </strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>Yes, I would be more than happy to beta read anything you send over.</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>Sincerely,</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>Fabiola</strong>
</p><p>“Hook, line, and sinker,” Ransom said to himself with a smirk plastering over his face. He knew exactly which of his work he would send over. It was one Ransom had finished a while back. A story about the measures of what a mother would do to prove her child’s innocence when they are accused of a crime. It was one of his more personal pieces of work. He was somewhat anxious to get feedback on it. He sent it over to Fabiola as an attachment. Now, Ransom was in wait and see mode. <em>‘Who knows how long until she gets to actually reading it,’ he thought to himself. </em></p><p>Three long agonizing days later, Ransom finally heard back from Fabiola when he checked his email that afternoon. </p><p>
  <strong>Ransom,</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>How are you? </strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>Sorry I have not gotten back to you sooner. Your story is amazing! I could not put it down. I actually read it twice. It had me on the edge of my seat the entire time and had a lot of heart. You are such a good writer.</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>I do have some suggestions for you if you do not mind. However, I do not want to merely give them to you via email or comments in the document. Would it be okay if the two of us meet up for coffee sometime this week? It would be easier to talk to you about the recommendations face-to-face.</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>Any suggestions on where we could meet up? I don’t mind traveling to your neck of the woods if it is more convenient for you.</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>Fabiola</strong>
</p><p>Ransom was thrilled that not only did she like his work but was willing to meet him in person. He quickly wrote her back suggesting a meeting at a little coffee shop in West Bridgewater. It would only be a 34-minute drive for Fabiola to get to him. Honestly, Ransom was a bit taken aback that she was willing to drive all the way out to the boonies to talk to him in person. </p><p>The two decided to meet up on Saturday afternoon at The Bridge Coffee House, a new town establishment. A Starbucks it was not, thankfully.</p><hr/><p>When Saturday finally rolled around, Ransom dressed in his usual simple attire: gray cardigan, white long-sleeve shirt underneath, dark blue jeans, and Louis Vuitton black loafers. He gave himself a look over in the mirror one last time; he exited the house, got in his 1972 BMW 3.0 CSi, and headed to the coffee shop.</p><p>Once there, Ransom ordered an espresso and settled in a seat near the corner, but still visible for Fabiola to see him. As Ransom waited for Fabiola to arrive, his leg was shaking underneath the table. He was nervous, which was an unusual feeling for Ransom. Women hardly ever made Ransom nervous, but the woman he was meeting was for business, not pleasure. </p><p>
  <em>‘Note yet at least,” Ransom thought to himself as he sipped his espresso. </em>
</p><p>The ding of the bell on the entrance door made Ransom lookup. There Fabiola was wearing a white long-sleeved fitted sweater with light blue jeans, white sneakers, and a light gray messenger bag slung over her shoulder. She looked around and noticed Ransom. Giving him a smile and wave, Fabiola made her way over to him. He stood up as she neared the table. </p><p>“Hi. How are you?” she asked and stuck out her hand for Ransom to shake.</p><p>He reciprocated the gesture and replied, “I’m good. Do you want something to drink? My treat.”</p><p>Fabiola accepted Ransom’s offer with an iced tea. “Is there a restroom around that I could use?”</p><p>Ransom pointed to where the restrooms were, and Fabiola excused herself while he got her iced tea. Paying for the iced tea, Ransom went back to the table and proceeded to wait again. </p><p>“That was quite a drive,” spoke Fabiola as she sat down in the seat across from Ransom, “Gorgeous scenery. I tend to not venture too far outside of Boston much.”</p><p>“Yeah, it is a nice quiet town. Not much goes on here.”</p><p>“I’m kind of surprised that you don’t choose to live in Boston. Figured you would want to be in a more urban area,” said Fabiola.</p><p>Ransom shifted in his seat to cross his legs, “I used to live in Boston during my 20s. I decided to move here a couple of years ago. Helped clear my head a little.”</p><p>Taking a sip of her iced tea, Fabiola asked, “Is that when you really began to write?”</p><p>Ransom let out a small laugh and cleared his throat, “Yeah…I just…needed a hobby to preoccupy my time.”</p><p>“Well, I have to tell you that it was a good idea,” said Fabiola as she began to rummage through her bag and pulled out a binder to place on the table.</p><p>“This story is outstanding,” she complimented.</p><p>Ransom felt the heat on his cheeks from her praise. It felt good to have someone appreciate his work, which was not a feeling he was used to. </p><p>“I do have some questions if you don’t mind me asking? Nothing bad, just some clarifications.”</p><p>“Sure. Ask away,” Ransom responded casually. He was doing his best not to seem too eager. </p><p>“What made you decide to have the main character a mother rather than a father? I ask that because, normally, male authors tend to write the protagonist as male. You don’t really see many male authors write crime novels with a main female character,” Fabiola pointed out and went on to tell him, “You also wrote the character really well. Like, she feels like a real person. She was fully developed and fleshed out. I was totally rooting for her throughout the whole story. And the side characters are nicely written as well. Each chapter kept the reader on its toes. You never knew what to expect. Nothing felt forced or out of place. Nothing dragged on. Here is a copy of my notes. Nothing too major. Only certain suggestions like clarification or more descriptive details for certain paragraphs.”</p><p>Ransom looked at her incredibly detailed notes. “I appreciate you doing this. Thank you,” Ransom said earnestly.  </p><p>“Do you plan on getting that published?” Fabiola asked him.</p><p>Letting out a light chuckle, Ransom told her that most likely he would not.</p><p>“Why?”</p><p>“I prefer to write for myself. Not for an audience. Plus, there is the likelihood that I’ll get compared to my grandfather or people thinking that nepotism is involved,” answered Ransom as he continued to flip through Fabiola’s notes.</p><p>Fabiola merely sat back and took the time to really look at the man before her. With dark hair and blue eyes, a strong jaw, and a somewhat crooked nose, Fabiola could not deny that he was handsome. Before the meeting, Fabiola asked Charlie about what he knew about Ransom. Boy, she got an honest earful from Charlie. While Charlie complimented Ransom, there was a hint of pity in his voice.</p><p>
  <em>“He’s got so much potential, but he wastes it with booze and women. The poor boy did have a stint in rehab when he was younger. It’s so parents of his. Always giving him money instead of love and affection,” Charlie shared with Fabiola. </em>
</p><p> “You don’t want to fail at the one thing you believe you are actually good at,” Fabiola stated to Ransom and added, “So, it is easier to not put yourself out there in the first place.”</p><p>Scoffing, Ransom sat back and stared at Fabiola. Now it was his turn to really look at the woman before him. With her long dark hair, brown eyes, and slender figure, he had to admit to himself that she was beautiful. But he could tell that there was more to this woman than meets the eye.</p><p>“You like to think you have me all figured out, don’t you? You think I’m some poor little rich poor?” Ransom asked with a hint of defensiveness in his voice.</p><p>“Yes,” Fabiola said as she folded her arms to rest on the table and continued, “You’re not some riddle, Ransom. You are quite easy to figure out. Just as I mentioned to you at the party, you are bored. However, it is not the excitement that you seek. Instead, you want guidance. You want someone to look after you and care for you. You want to surrender control. Am I wrong? Tell me I’m wrong, and I’ll shut up.”</p><p>With his silence, she had her answer.</p><p>“I can give you what you need, but to do that, we need to develop trust between one another,” Fabiola communicated and reached out to grip one of Ransom’s hands. She entwined her fingers within his.</p><p>“How much?” Ransom spoke up as they looked at their entangled hands. </p><p>Fabiola shook her head and clarified, “Nothing. I’m not proposing you sex Ransom. I’m proposing to you something completely different. What do you know about BDSM or a D/s relationship?”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Playful Conversations</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Warnings: BDSM themes, bondage, swearing</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <hr/><p>“So that you know, it is nothing like how ‘Fifty Shades of Grey’ portrays it. That book and movie series is total bullshit and completely disrespectful to the BDSM community,” Fabiola expressed to Ransom and continued with, “There are a lot of elements that follow under the BDSM umbrella. Have you ever looked into BDSM or been interested?” </p><p>What did Ransom know about BDSM or a D/s relationship? Nothing. Nothing at all. </p><p>“Anything that had to do with bondage entailed me being the one doing the tying up. Nothing too hardcore. No pain involved. Just light choking or spanking. But again, I wasn’t the receiver. If I do actually agree to this, then I would be your submissive? What makes you think I even classify as one?” Ransom asked.</p><p>“Oh honey, you are a total submissive. You reek of submissiveness. It oozes out of you. That is nothing to be embarrassed about. Being submissive does not mean you are weak. Never equate submissiveness with weakness in a D/s relationship,” Fabiola explained.</p><p>Fabiola suggested he should read up on the subject and even said she would send over articles that could help him understand the concept of BDSM more thoroughly. “Here, put your number in my phone,” she instructed, handing the object over to him.</p><p>Ransom obliged and put in his phone number. Fabiola immediately began to text Ransom articles about BDSM and D/s relationships.</p><p>“Those articles are good to start with. I’ll also send over this BDSM test I found on the Internet. You should take it as it will help me, and you figure out what type of sexual deviant you are. Like, are you a pain slut, do you like degradation, etcetera?” Fabiola rambled off suggestively.</p><p>Ransom leaned in more towards Fabiola and recommended, “What if I don’t know what I like? A test isn’t going to help me figure it out since I most likely never done much of anything within the BDSM realm. I think it would best if we do some hands-on practices, don’t you think?”  </p><p>“So, you are saying you want to give this a try? I don’t want to force you to do anything you aren’t comfortable doing, just so we are clear.”</p><p>“If I weren’t interested, I would have walked out that door. Hell, I wouldn’t even have asked you to meet me if I didn’t find you, not only beautiful but fascinating as well,” Ransom declared as he took one last sip of his drink.</p><p>“Okay. I still want you to do some research and tell me what you may be interested in, and we can go from there,” Fabiola stated as she began to put her things back in her messenger bag and suggested meeting up again next Saturday but at her place this time. “Will that give you enough time to read up on the subject more?” she added.</p><p>Ransom simply nodded his head.</p><p>Fabiola learned closer to Ransom and whispered in his ear, “So that you know, it would in your best interest from now on to give me ‘yes’ or ‘no’ answers. You will use your words with me, Baby Hughie. If not, then a nice ball gag will fit nicely in the pretty mouth of yours since you feel no need to use it.”</p><p>Once again, Ransom was stunned. This woman truly knew how to keep him on his toes. He could feel his cock twitch in his pants when she scolded and threatened him with punishment. It was the first real excitement Ransom felt in a long time.</p><p>“Yes,” he answered softly and wide-eyed.</p><p>Fabiola kissed Ransom on the cheek and told him, “I’ll see you soon, sweetheart. Be good for me, okay.”</p><p>“I will,” Ransom replied obediently.</p><p>With a smile on her face, Fabiola grazed her hand against his cheek and said, “Good boy.”</p><hr/><p>Before Ransom was to meet up again with Fabiola, he did as he was told and read the articles she texted. He learned about hard limits and started to think about what would be off-limits for him. Ransom realized a couple of the hard limits were golden showers (or anything we urine and feces), tickling, or needle play. He read about aftercare, which occurs after a scene where the dominant helps the submissive come down from “subspace.”</p><p>After reading and researching more about the overall ins and outs of a D/s relationship, Ransom felt comfortable taking the BDSM test Fabiola requested for him to take. The answering ranking for each question was “absolutely disagree,” “neutral/no opinion,” and “absolutely agree.”</p><p>The first question asked if he liked being dominated, especially in the bedroom. With Fabiola, it was something he was more than willing to give it a try, so he answered with “absolutely agree.” </p><p>The second question was, “I like receiving pain during sex/BDSM and seeing the results of it (marks/bruises, makeup running by tears, etc.) afterward.” This one he had to give some thought. Again, he was willing to try but only put “neutral” as his response. </p><p>Other questions on the tests ranged from “The idea of being tortured sexually, is appealing” to “I like to be sexually degraded and humiliated by my partner(s) sometimes,” which Ransom selected “absolutely agree” to both. </p><p>His overall results were interesting, to say the least: 98% rope bunny, 94% degrade, 84% Submissive, 70% brat, 70% Masochist, 64% Slave, 53% experimentalist. He sent the results over the Fabiola to get an idea of what she might be working with.</p><p>
  <strong>Hi Ransom,</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>This helps. However, that does not mean that results can’t change when we eventually try things out. Again, I will make sure to go slow with you. I won’t force you to do anything you are not comfortable doing. </strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>I look forward to seeing you on Saturday.</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>Take care,</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>Fabiola</strong>
</p><p>Ransom immediately wrote back, which he found kind of funny since he never replied quickly to emails or texts. He asked her out to dinner, hoping that the two could continue to get to know one another more. Ransom mentioned Sorellina, which offered Italian-Mediterranean cuisine. It was a very upscale restaurant in the Boston area, and Ransom was hoping it would impress Fabiola that he could offer to take her to such a fancy establishment. He would go all out to impress her, hoping that she would think of him worthy of keeping around.</p><p>The two texted one another frequently throughout the week, whether it be Ransom asking Fabiola questions about BDSM or partake in the mundane topic exchange. It was nice for Ransom to have someone he could converse with that was not a part of his usual crowd or trust fund babies or party-goers. Communicating with Fabiola helped Ransom keep himself occupied. He even began to write more, which took up most of his time that he did not have the energy to party or hang out with his stoner friends. </p><p>Despite the pleading and temptations, his friends offered to join in on the festivities. Ransom declined to cite that he was too busy. Instead, he continued to focus on writing as he wanted to show more of his work to Fabiola. Despite not knowing the younger very well, Ransom could not deny that he liked the compliment she gave him on his writing. He wanted her to praise him again as she did at the café. He kept fantasizing about what she would do to him the night they were to meet up again. Would she tie him up and edge him for hours? She mentioned that she wanted to meet up at her place, so that was an incentive to Ransom to wonder what she had in store for him.</p><p>The night before he was to meet up with Fabiola, he called her out of the blue. He wanted to hear her voice.</p><p>“Ransom, you okay?” Fabiola asked when she answered the phone. She was surprised to see his name come up, particularly at such a late hour at night.</p><p>“Yeah, I’m fine. Everything is good. I just wanted…just wanted to…talk. If that is okay?”</p><p>“Of course, that is okay. What do you want to talk about?” she inquired.</p><p>Letting out a deep breath, Ransom spoke, “I’ve been thinking about our possible arrangement…”</p><p>“Are you having second thoughts?” Fabiola asked worriedly.</p><p>“No! No, I’m not having second thoughts. Not at all. I have been thinking a lot about it, actually. I was just kind of hoping you could give me some insight into what I should be expected if that is okay?”</p><p>“Not a problem. Reading as many articles as you have this week doesn’t really give you the proper insight into the whole BDSM world. Also, don’t worry if you don’t understand everything your first week. You won’t be graded on anything,” Fabiola informed and continued with, “We’ll start slow. But why don’t you tell me what you would like to try?”</p><p>Ransom shared that he did not mind being tied up but that he was a little nervous about anything pain-inducing. He also shared that his new fantasy was her denying him orgasms.</p><p>“I have a flogger that shouldn’t hurt you too badly. Don’t worry; I’m not gonna flog you until you bleed or anything. I tend not to take it that far. Thankfully, I am exceptionally good at edging my subs and controlling their orgasms. That is one of my favorite activities to play,” Fabiola teased over the phone. </p><p>The two continued to talk over the phone, where the conversations ranged from discussing BDSM to mundane. Ransom beamed over the phone when he was able to make Fabiola laugh when retelling a story about the time he got locked out of the fraternity house he was “rushing’ during freshman year while naked and smeared with peanut butter all over his body.</p><p>“I got chased by the neighborhood dogs. They were trying to eat me. To this day, I have a phobia of dogs. My grandpa has two big German shepherds who always try to jump on me whenever I visit him. They have it out for me.”</p><p>“You poor thing,” Fabiola consoled while not being able to hold back her laughter. “I had a goat headbutt me in the stomach when I was five. It hurt so fucking bad.”</p><p>“Why were you around a goat?” Ransom asked, confused.</p><p>“Because I was tagging along with my older sister to one of her friend’s house, and the girl had a pet goat. I’m telling you, Ransom, the pain in my stomach from that headbutt was unbearable. Can you imagine being five years old and getting headbutted in the stomach by a fucking goat! Now that shit is traumatic,” Fabiola shared. She still remembers the feeling of having to walk home in excruciating pain after the goat incident.</p><p>“Okay, you win. I can’t beat that regarding animal encounters.”</p><p>“I think my sister has a beat. She got chased by a peacock one time when we were visiting the zoo with our friends. For some reason, the zoo we went to just had a peacock roaming around freely. Oh God, it was so funny. Too bad I don’t have that on camera,” laughed Fabiola.</p><p>Ransom let a chuckle as well. He felt comfortable and at ease while talking to Fabiola. </p><p>“Can I ask you something personal?” asked Fabiola out of the blue.</p><p>“Only if I get to ask something personal back,” Ransom negotiated.</p><p> “Okay. What did you want to be when you grew up?”</p><p>Ransom let out a chuckle. That was not the question he was expecting. “That is a little tame. I guess…I don’t know. I can’t remember. Why do you ask? Why do you want to know?”</p><p>“I just want to get a better sense of who you are. Finding out your hopes and dreams helps to do that. I…no offense, don’t think you necessarily wanted to be this trust fund bachelor for the rest of your life. You strike me as someone who likes their independence, so I am simply confused about why you would want to be beholden to your family’s wealth for income. Aren’t you ever worried that your grandfather or parents will cut you off one day?”</p><p>“Idle threats,” Ransom responded nonchalantly. “They would never go through with it.”</p><p>With a mere hum, Fabiola did not push the topic further, knowing she would not get much from Ransom. He was clueless to think he could mooch off his family for the rest of his life. She had overheard a conversation Charlie had with Harlan about Ransom. Fabiola was able to make out from the dialogue how Harlan seemed to be perturbed by Ransom’s mindless spending. Apparently, his grandson was spending up to $10,000 to $15,000 a month. Harlan was distressed on what Ransom could be spending all that money on, whether clothes or other mundane items. The Thrombey clan’s patriarch expressed worry and fear that he coddled and spoiled, but his favorite grandchild was partaking in unsavory activities, like drugs. However, it was never brought up in fear of finding out the truth. Denial and avoidance were two of the Thrombey/Drysdale clan’s favorite coping mechanisms. </p><p>“Now, for my question,” Ransom was more than happy to change the subject. “What made you interested in BDSM?”</p><p>“I knew you were gonna ask that question,” said Fabiola with an eye roll and shake of her head, but continued, “To be honest, I have always had some fascination with seeing people tied up. I would say that started when I saw Madonna’s music video for ‘Human Nature’ where she is in a latex bodysuit and being a dominatrix to one of the dancers. She was also chained to a chair. She was so freaking hot back in the 90s. I guess that was my first time seeing BDSM imagery so out in the open. Of course, I didn’t know what it was actually referred to. It wasn’t until college when I started to learn more about it from a person who would be my first dom.”</p><p>Ransom sat up at the confession. “Wait! Hold up. You were a submissive?”</p><p>“Well, yeah. I was exploring and needed some guidance. It helped me realize that I am more of a domme than a submissive. I like being in control and having some at my complete mercy,” toyed Fabiola.</p><p>“You really are an enigma. I can’t quite get you figured out.”</p><p>“And with that, I will bid you goodnight. Sleep well, Baby Hughie.”  </p><hr/><p>“Look at you, all helpless and at my complete mercy. You look so delicious spread out. All tied up nice and pretty for me,” stated Fabiola as she paced back and forth at the foot of Ransom’s bed. She had tied him spread eagle on his bed with red rope. She laughed when he tried to tug at his binds. </p><p>“You’re not going to be able to get out those ropes. This is your rightful place, isn’t it Ransom. Helpless and at my mercy.”</p><p>“Yes, it is Mistress. Thank you,” Ransom breathed out. His cock was stiffening as he tried to flex his hands and fit against the ropes. He could not remember a time when he felt so turned on and hard. </p><p>“What color are you at, Ransom?” she asked to make sure he was still doing okay.</p><p>“Green, mistress,” he replied. </p><p>“Good boy. However, I think something is missing. It does not quite feel complete,” Fabiola pondered with a head tilt. She went back to her closet of toys, took out a ball gag, and presented it to Ransom. Letting out a laugh, she got on the bed and sat between his legs. Inserting the gag in his mouth and tightening the straps to secure it in place, Fabiola sat back on her knees to look at the vulnerable man before her. </p><p>“Beautiful,” she breathed out while running her hands up and down Ransom’s bare chest. “This is exactly how I pictured you the night I first met you. I knew you would be mine. Are you happy being mine, Ransom?”</p><p>Ransom nodded and tried to speak, but all he could get out was a muffled, “Yes.” </p><p>Lying down beside Ransom, Fabiola draped her right leg over him and traced a finger against his gagged mouth. “It feels good tonight to not be in control, isn’t it, Ransom? To not have to worry about anything except to please me. To not have to make any decisions except to follow my orders. Your parents failed you, so this is where I come in to make sure you become the man you were always meant to be, Ransom.”</p><p>Giving him a wet kiss on his gagged mouth, Fabiola began to trail kisses down his neck to his stomach before stopping at his Adonis belt. She sat back on her knees once again to take him all in.</p><p>“Do you want me to suck you cock, Baby Hughie?”</p><p>Another muffled ‘yes’ from Ransom made Fabiola chuckle. “Of course, you want me to suck your cock. You are such a slut. You would probably allow me to do anything I wanted to do as long as you came. But guess what, you’re going to have to earn your orgasms from now, Baby Hughie. No more handouts. For the first time in your life, you are going to have to work for what you want,” Fabiola explained with a strong authoritative tone. </p><p>Ransom tried to concentrate, but all he could think about was how hard his cock was at that moment. Fabiola could tell that Ransom was not paying attention to her, so she quickly slapped him right across his face. Ransom looked back at the woman before with a shocked expression on his face, letting out a groan at being slapped. </p><p>“You better pay attention to me, little boy. I guess we are also going to have to work on your manners, you undisciplined little slut,” Fabiola berated him. God, he loved the degrading things she said to him. It only turned him more. </p><p>“Now, I do want to give you a little taste,” she said, getting her mouth closer to the base of his cock. As Ransom tried to push his hips closer to Fabiola, he already felt like he was about to explode his load. He could not hold it any longer. The need to release was too excruciating. It was not long before Ransom felt himself cumming all over the bed and himself.  </p><p>He quickly sat up and looked around his room. No longer was he gagged or bound to the bed. Fabiola was nowhere in sight. Breathing heavily, Ransom sat up against the headboard. He checked under the covers and, low and behold, proof that it was all a wet dream.</p><p>“A wet dream. Really? What the fuck am I twelve. Jesus Christ!” Ransom berated himself as he got out of bed to discard his now soiled pajama pants and clean himself up.</p><p>He only hoped that his first night with Fabiola would be more fulfilling than the dream. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Don't Then</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Fabiola and Ransom go on their first date. They are having a good time until someone stops by to ruin the evening.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Warnings: Swearing. A handjob is performed in a public setting.<br/>Bold font indicates text messaging.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <hr/><p>With any sexual partner, it is vital to maintain the separation of fantasy and reality. Sexual activities deemed “kinky” do not always result in instant gratification moments like movies, books, and television tend to show. Many considerations need to be involved when partaking in the acts of BDSM, such as personal feelings and possible risks. It is crucial for the Dominant to not put his or her Submissive in any uncomfortable scenarios and vice versa. BDSM interactions need to be steeped in solid communication, along with the collaboration of willingness to take personal responsibility for one’s actions and choices.</p><p>For Fabiola, she was determined to make sure that Ransom understands the essential aspects of BDSM interactions. Since he was new to BDSM, particularly as a submissive, it was her duty to help guide him throughout this unique experience. It was a responsibility that Fabiola never took for granted when it came to being a Domme. It was her duty to protect and guide her Subs when playing a scene. She loved being a Domme.</p><p>Currently, Fabiola was standing beside her closet, picking our different outfits to see what would look best for tonight. She wanted something casual and nothing too fancy. So, Fabiola opted for her dark red bandage dress with strappy side cutouts, a halter neck, and an open back with zipper closure that flattered her figure. She accompanied the dress with a black bicker chic crop jacket. Fabiola adorned the ensemble with black peep-toe ankle boots with lace embroidery and buckles, along with a black clutch. Her long hair was curled to cascade down her shoulders in waves, with red lips and dark eyeliner highlighting her facial features. </p><p>Fabiola instructed Ransom to pick her up at 8:00 PM at her apartment, and not a minute over. One thing she wanted to do was implement structure and consistency with Ransom. She desired to get him in the habit of being responsible and taking accountability. Fabiola figured that was the best place to start.</p><p>As Fabiola finished up getting ready, she heard her cellphone buzz. Thinking it was Ransom, she quickly reached for the device only to deflate. It wasn’t Ransom.</p><p>
  <strong>Jonathan: I need to see you. I can’t stop thinking about you, Fabiola. Please give me another chance.</strong>
</p><p>Fabiola let out a frustrated groan when she read the message. Jonathan was her former boyfriend/submissive who appeared not to get the hint that things with them were over. The guy was too clingy for Fabiola to handle. He always wanted to be around her. He wanted more than what she was able to give him.</p><p>
  <strong>Fabiola: I can’t talk right now. I’m busy. </strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>Jonathan: Please! I need you!</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>Fabiola: NO! I told you that what we had is over. Now stop contacting me!</strong>
</p><p>With a sigh, Fabiola put her phone in her clutch. ‘If you don’t want him to contact you, then block his number,’ Fabiola’s inner voice scolded her.</p><p>It wasn’t like Fabiola hadn’t thought about it. However, there was a part of her that couldn’t do it. She liked Jonathan. He was special to her. And some part of Fabiola still felt responsible for him.</p><p>She took out her phone and brought up the message chain.</p><p>
  <strong>Fabiola: Jonathan, I’m sorry. Look, I really can’t talk right now. How about tomorrow?</strong>
</p><p>‘You’re an enabler!’ her inner voice yelled.</p><p><strong>Jonathan: Yes! Thank you! Talk to you tomorrow, sweetheart. </strong>😊</p><p>Fabiola rolled her eyes.</p><p>Thankfully, she didn’t have to stew over Jonathan’s messages for too long when the doorbell rang. She looked at the time, which read eight o’clock. She opened the door, and there was Ransom dressed to perfection. He wore all black from his jacket, shirt, slacks, and shoes. Very casual but still sophisticated. Fabiola could only guess Ransom’s clothes’ cost, which she knew each piece had to have been from a top designer.</p><p>“Hi,” Fabiola greeted. “You’re right on time.”</p><p>“I figured you’d count it against me if I didn’t,” Ransom confessed. He looked Fabiola up and down. “You look outstanding.”</p><p>“Thank you. So do you,” Fabiola complimented and walked out of her apartment to lock it up. </p><p>Ransom offered Fabiola his arm, which she took, and walked her to his car. He would show that he could be a perfect gentleman since he was the one who recommended they go out for the night before returning to her place.</p><p>He wanted to relax but also show Fabiola a good time. Wining and dining women was one of Ransom’s specialties.</p><p>“So, where are we going?” Fabiola implored as she looked over at the man next to her.</p><p>“I figured I would take you to Yvonne’s. It’s a restaurant and bar. Nice atmosphere. Cool décor. You ever been?”</p><p>“No, never been,” she answered.</p><p>“I think you’ll like it.”</p><p>The remaining drive to the restaurant was quiet. It was as if neither knew what to bring up to start a conversation, which was not surprising. Ransom and Fabiola still didn’t know much about one another.</p><p>“How is your writing coming along since we last saw each other?” Fabiola probed as the quietness was getting to her. She figured asking Ransom about his writing was the safest conversation starter.</p><p>“Uh,” Ransom began as he steered his car through traffic. “It is…well, to be honest, I’m kind of stuck. I don’t know where to take the story next.”</p><p>Fabiola nodded in understanding. “Writer’s block. All too common. You know, some writers have shared with me how they combat writer’s block. You want to hear?”</p><p>“All ears.”</p><p>“Do you ever develop a list of favorite things your characters like, such as food, music, television shows, all that stuff? A writer told me they did that to help flesh out characters. That way, it helped to steer them where they needed to go within the story. Another writer told me that they would write one-shots where a character would do something different outside of the overall story. That way, you’re still getting your creative writing juices flowing instead of stewing and feeling bad about yourself for not writing,” Fabiola advised.</p><p>In all honesty, Ransom appreciated the advice. He was not used to kindness from another person who did not appear to want anything from him, at least not regarding his money or status. With Fabiola, he could tell that she was genuine with her advice offering.</p><p>After another fifteen minutes of mindless chitchat, Ransom pulled into a parking lot. He put the car in park and got out. Ransom hurried to the passenger door to help Fabiola out of the car, but she got out before he could open the door for her. </p><p>“I’m sorry,” Fabiola giggled. “I never know if a guy is going to do that or not. I’ll let you open the door for me next time.”</p><p>With a chuckle, Ransom offered his arm once again and guided his date to the restaurant. Ransom was not kidding when he said that Yvonne’s décor was “cool.” Heck, it was more than that; it was fabulous. For Fabiola, it looked like gothic Alice in Wonderland, with its bookcases, elegant chandeliers, and other abstract lighting and art along the walls. Fabiola mainly got a kick out of the numerous skulls outlining the front of the bar.</p><p>“This place is amazing,” she gushed to Ransom.</p><p>“I had a feeling you would,” he smiled at her. Ransom was happy he was able to do something right.</p><p>They were greeted by the hostess and then escorted to their reserved table. </p><p>“I’m so tempted to go up to those bookshelves and check out what they got,” Fabiola raved as she continued to take in her surroundings. </p><p>Ransom tried to hold back his smile as he watched Fabiola. She looked like a kid in a candy store. He couldn’t fathom how this beautiful before him was a domme when she had the sweetest and, at times, goofy disposition. Fabiola was just who she was, carefree. Or at least that is what she presented on the outside. He wondered if she had any skeletons in her closet. </p><p>He put down the wine/cocktail menu and leaned his arms on the table. “Tell me something, Ms. Rossi,” he began, “What makes you…tick?”</p><p>She quirked one of her perfectly tweezed eyebrows at Ransom, “What do you mean?”</p><p>“Like, what drives you crazy? What annoys you?”</p><p>“Oh, that is easy. The answer to that is stupid people. I have an extremely low tolerance to people who willingly choose to be ignorant,” she answered and grabbed the wine/cocktail menu. “What about you?”</p><p>“My family. They are the worst. You’d hate them for sure. But I won’t spoil the evening talking about them.”</p><p>“How about we order drinks,” Fabiola suggested as she continued to look at the drink menu. “Help us relax more, eh. What’s monkey shoulder?” she asked Ransom as she pointed to the drink that was called ‘Monkeys In A Pear Tree’ that had monkey shoulder, spiced pear, vanilla, almond, and orange bitters.</p><p>“It’s a blended malt scotch whiskey. It’s rather good. You should try it. Not with all that other shit in the drink, just the whiskey.”</p><p>“Yeah, I don’t need all that sugar. And I’m not a whiskey girl, unfortunately. I think I’ll go with a glass of wine,” Raina pointed out.</p><p>Ransom took the list back and perused the assortments of wine offerings. “How about I get us a bottle. Red or white?”</p><p>“Let’s go with red. You pick.”</p><p>Waving a waiter over, Ransom ordered a bottle of the red 2017 Syrah. It was a good wine. Not too sweet, but not too “woody” tasting as some would describe certain red wines. With their glasses filled, both opted to go for the shareable plate items—nothing too heavy, just enough to satisfy their stomachs. </p><p>While they waited, Fabiola scooted her chair closer to Ransom. They were seated at a corner table with dim lighting. No one would be able to see what Fabiola was about to do. She placed one of her manicured hands on his thigh. Fabiola began to move her hand up and down. As Fabiola trailed her hand higher up Ransom’s thigh, she watched his face for any reaction that she should stop. When she didn’t see any hesitation from him, she rested her hand against the bulge in his pants. Fabiola squeezed it, and Ransom almost jumped from his seat. </p><p>Ransom felt Fabiola begin to unbuckle his belt and lower the zipper. He looked around the restaurant to make sure no one was looking over at their table. Fabiola let out a little chuckle.</p><p>“Do you want me to stop?” she asked him.</p><p>He shook his head ‘no.’ “I need you to voice it, Baby Hughie,” Fabiola ordered him in a low voice while she continued to rub him out. He stirred in his seat as she slipped a hand under his briefs.</p><p>“Don’t stop,” Ransom managed to breathe out. His cock was almost rock hard.</p><p>Fabiola continued to stroke him. Back and forth. Nice and slow. Agonizingly slow. Ransom began to move his hips to try to increase the friction against his cock. </p><p>“Look at you. So needy. You want to cum, don’t you? Is that what you want? You want to cum in a public setting, Baby Hughie?” teased Fabiola as she leaned over and began to kiss Ransom from his neck to his ear. “I want to see how long I can tease you before you eventually beg me to let you cum.”</p><p>Even when the waiter brought their food (who was oblivious to what was going on under the table), Fabiola did not remove her hand from Ransom’s pants. She ate her food with her other hand while she continued to stroke his cock with the other. Sometimes Fabiola would bring her fork to Ransom’s mouth so he would eat when she noticed he was barely touching his food. </p><p>When Ransom felt a thumb rub his tip, he let out a low groan. “I need to cum,” he whispered through clenched teeth.</p><p>“I know you do, but I’m not going to allow it,” was all Fabiola said and continued to eat her food. </p><p>It was only when she was finished eating that she stopped stroking Ransom’s cock and removed her hand from his pants. She assisted in zipping and buckling Ransom back up to make sure he looked presentable. Fabiola stood up from the table. She handed Ransom one of the clean napkins. “Wipe the sweat from your forehead and drink some water. I’m going to go wash my hands.” </p><p>As Ransom watched Fabiola’s retreating form, he leaned back in his chair and let out a loud sigh. Reaching for his wine glass, he downed the contact in one gulp and poured himself another. Ransom squeezed his own junk as it was still hard. He began to think about other things to stifle the hardness. ‘Family reunions. Aunt Joni in a bathing suit. Grandma in a bathing suit.’ Ransom throughout in his head. </p><p>Unsurprisingly, they worked. His stiffened cock was beginning to recede. Gulping down another glass of wine, Ransom poured himself another. He didn’t quite know how to feel at that moment. He was unsatisfied with not being allowed to cum, but also intrigued with how turned he felt. </p><p>The feeling of not being in control was all-new for Ransom. At that moment, it was Fabiola who called the shots. She told him that he was not allowed to cum. He noticed the chastising tone in her voice when she ordered him to wipe off his sweat and drink water. Normally, Ransom would scoff at someone commanding to do things, but there was something incredibly erotic when Fabiola did it. He picked up his napkin and began to wipe off the sweat from his forehead. He drank his water and waited for the woman, who excited and astounded him, to return.  </p><p>Unfortunately, Ransom’s euphoria came to a crashing halt when he heard, “Hey, son. What are you doing here?”</p><p>Ransom looked up to see his father, Richard Drysdale, standing before him. “What the Hell are you doing here?” Ransom retorted coldly. </p><p>Ignoring his son’s cold tone and icy glare, Richard took it upon himself to take a seat at the table. He began picking the food off of the plates and took Ransom’s glass of wine to sip for himself. </p><p>“You got a date?” Richard probed his son. </p><p>Ransom let out a frustrated groan. He needed to get out of here. “Is mom here as well, or are you with one of your side pieces?” </p><p>Before Richard could reply, Fabiola came back to the table. She was caught off guard by the new addition who was eating their food and drinking their wine. “Sorry I took so long. I got caught up talking to a woman who wanted to know where I purchased my shoes, then we got off tangent, and well…I’m back now. Who is this?”</p><p>“No one important,” Ransom replied.</p><p>Richard glared at his son but hid his animosity with a laugh. “He’s a kidder that one. Hi, I’m Richard Drysdale. Ransoms’ father,” he introduced himself. Richard stuck his hand out for Fabiola. Which she accepted with the hand that was previously stroking his son’s cock. </p><p>“Fabiola Rossi.”</p><p>“Well, aren't you beautiful,” Richard complimented. Ransom noticed a look in his father’s eyes. He knew that look. It was the look Richard always had when he wanted a woman that was not his wife. </p><p>“Again, I ask, what are you doing here?” Ransom again asked his father.</p><p>Richard looked over at the bar with Ransom and Fabiola following suit. They saw Richard wave a young woman who waved back. “I’m here for a business dinner.”</p><p>“Bullshit.”</p><p>Ransom knew that his father was having an affair. Everyone in the family knew, except for Linda. But that was his mother. She would rather ignore the problems in her marriage and family while pretending everything is perfect. </p><p>“Look, son, I didn’t mean to crash your date. I just stopped by to say ‘hi,’ that is it,” Richard pointed out.</p><p>Ransom merely scoffed. “Okay. You said your ‘hi,’ now leave.”</p><p>“Actually, Ransom, I think we should start heading out,” Fabiola spoke up while looking around for their waiter.</p><p>“I didn’t mean to cut your evening short,” said Richard as he got up from the table. He stood there awkwardly for a few seconds before bidding adieu and going back to his “business dinner.”</p><p>Pinching the bridge of his nose, Ransom was more than annoyed; he was fuming. He was ready to blow, and Fabiola could see it. She watched as Ransom pulled out a couple of hundred bills from his wallet and stood up. She stood up as well gathered her jacket and clutch. Following Ransom’s lead out of the restaurant, Fabiola was only a few steps behind him as they walked to the car. He stopped in front passenger door side and turned around. He watched as Fabiola put on her jacket.  Her hair was lightly blowing in the night wind. His father was right; she was beautiful.</p><p>Moving towards Fabiola, Ransom ran his hands up and down her arms to help warm her up. “I’m sorry about that,” he said, indicating what happened in the restaurant with his father. “My dad…he isn’t someone I…”</p><p>“It’s fine, Ransom. Let’s not have him ruin the rest of our night. You still want to come over, right?”</p><p>Ransom leaned his forehead against Fabiola’s before pressing his lips against hers. He didn’t deepen the kiss and retreated after only a couple of seconds. Ransom went back to resting his forehead against Fabiola’s while she stroked his left cheek.</p><p>“Tell me what you want?” she asked him.</p><p>Ransom looked into her eyes like he was searching for something. He sighed at what felt like the hundredth time that night. “I don’t know what I want. That is the problem. All I do know is that I don’t want to be like him. I don’t want to be my dad.”</p><p>Fabiola nodded her head in understanding. “Don’t then.”</p>
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